Scars
by cbs2cbw
Summary: The scars of Kenshin's past drastically affect the choices that he will have to make for the future. KxK
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

**A/N:** Hope that I don't completely confuse all of you : )

**_It was all red. Blood._**

_**Clank . . . clank . . . steel swords striking each other, and with each strike sparks.**_

_'Jab . . . Perry . . . Jab . . . Thrust . . .'_

_**It was blurred; the movements were so fast that nothing but the opponent stayed in focus. The swords continued to connect **__**with each other; the fighters continued their dance of death.**__ **It was all there. They were all there. It was all so red. Red blurs continually rushed past. He was all that was in focus, and he was causing all of the red. The red had to end.**_

_' . . .An opening . . . '_

_Crash..._

Glass went flying in all directions.

A sword was sticking out of the wall and what was left of the mirror. The whole battle was nothing but an illusion. Droplets of blood dripped one by one from his face. His eyes were dilated, staring at the glass on the floor. He was choking in air by the gasps. His knees were on the ground, one arm being hooked over his sword, and the rest of his body he wasn't supporting. He was hunched over. Blood was dripping off his chin. The weight of his body on the sword, cause it to become loosened from the wall, and when it fell out, his body fell. The position was somewhat awkward, and uncomfortable, but his consciousness was far from caring. His hands moved, and he held his head cupped behind his hands, letting the darkness they provided shield his eyes from the blood.

The glass cut the backs of his hands as his face shook back and forth, his hands still sheltering his eyes. Through his hands, blood dripped, much more than his come from the cuts on the back of his hands, and more than any other of the cuts that he had received from the glass shattering.

This new blood was from a fresh wound, one that had happened. As the warm liquid seeped through his fingers, he seemed to regain some of his consciousness. He looked at his hands. Then, a look of pure horror came to his face. He looked down into the broken pieces of mirror, and saw the scar on his face, oozing blood.

The man, was now sitting straight up, on his knees. He was looking off into space. His face was an unreadable mass of cuts and blood. He was totally motionless, you could not even see his chest expand and contract with breath, or his jugular vein beat with each passing heart beat, no he was totally motionless.

Then suddenly, his fist came from beside him, and crashed into the wall in front of him, where the mirror had been previously. Whatever was left of the looking glass, fell to the floor with the impact if his fist. His eyes as transfixed as before. Now however, his lips were moving. The words were silent however, for breath was not following the movement of his lips, as to make speech; However, his lips had a mind of his own and the movement just added to the trace like feeling that the room had acquired since the second the mirror was hit.

He got to his feet, still in a trance, and moved slowly to the couch on the other side of the room. He stood next to hit, and turned and stared at the mirror, and the blood on the floor. Then his eyes moved to his hands. He took one look at his hands, and them he fell over.

He fell, right onto the couch. About a minute later, his breathing seemed to return, and the steady rise and fall of his chest, made you wonder if he might have died and come back to life again, for there was no such movement just a minute ago. Then if one were to examine closer, one would find that the man was fast asleep, a calm serene look on his face, blood still dripping from what looks to be a fresh wound to his left cheek. A few small pieces of glass were in his hair, and a few small cuts adulterated the areas of skin that were exposed when the mirror had shattered.

He was sleeping too peacefully after such an abrupt and disturbing self-encounter.

End Prologue


	2. Chapter 1

**Scars**

**Chapter One**

            Everything isn't, always, as it seems.  Sometimes we see things that no one was ever meant to see.  Sometimes we fight losing battles.  A journey has a beginning and an ending, yet the adventure is all that is in-between.  

            Sanosuke Sagara had begun his adventure and because of it, had been exposed too much more than he ever could have imagined.  He had a job, not a normal, but that job was the adventure in itself.  

            The room was thick with cigarette smoke.  The television was on but so low that only one with a trained ear could hear it.  The newsmen were talking about the latest happenings.  Sanosuke was sitting on the chair that was perpendicular to the television, smoking one cigarette after another.  There was an ashtray on the arm of the chair in which Sanosuke was sitting on, overflowing with ashes.  The man continued to look at the television and he inhaled deeply, burning the cigarette down to the butt.  He smashed it into the overflowing trey causing ash to fly up into the air.  

            In another room a clock chimed 12 o'clock and like clockwork, the glass was heard crashing onto the ground.  It was the only sound that broke that practically silent air.  

Sanosuke turned the volume of the television up.  

            _'Mr. Omaka Shinzutu was killed tonight in a freak accident.  He was caught up in a building fire.  As to how the fire was started, it is still unclear.' _

            "Bull shit." Sanosuke turned the television off and the room went dark and silent.    

            **Flick  . . . flick**

            Sanosuke lit another cigarette and the room was illuminated as the lighter came to life.  He got up out of his chair and walked to the back of the room.  He leaned against the wall, his hands behind his head, with the cigarette in the corner of his mouth.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Kenshin slowly opened his eyes, his mass of red hair falling into his face as a few pieces of glass fell to the ground from it.  He calmly brushed his hands through his hair and looked at the wall where the mirror used to be.  He then sat up in the couch, looking down at himself.  

            _'I'm sure that I went to bed in my raccoon pajamas last night . . . where did these things come from?'_

            He smiled to himself. _'Oh well.' _He thought, his smile never wavering.   

            As he was lazily rolling off of the leather couch, a knock came from the door, and it opened.  

            "Good morning Kenshin. You look quite flabbergasted this morning, is something wrong?"

            Kenshin was smiling still, even after the somewhat rude intrusion, and comment of his friend. "Well, I guess I broke another mirror.  Again."

            Sanosuke shook his head. "How many years of bad luck does it add up to now?"

            "Beats me.  I lost count after 343." Kenshin laughed as he walked into his kitchen.  He hurried right over the sword that was lying in the midst of the broken glass, right under the whole in the wall.  Kenshin seemed to totally overlook the whole mess, walking right over the glass, in his slippers.  He especially disregarded the sword.  

            Sanosuke walked towards the sword, sheathed it and hung it in its proper place in the main room.  He smiled almost bitterly, as he looked at the sword.  His gaze fell to the floor.  "Kenshin, don't worry about the mirror.  I'll take care of it." He yelled.  

            There was some rustling from the bedroom and then a loud, "Ya I know.", from Kenshin.  

            _'It's like he doesn't want to know.'_ Sanosuke thought.  

            A drawer slammed in the other room, and Sanosuke moved closer to the front door, knowing that Kenshin would be walking out of his room any moment.  He pulled an object out of his jacket pocket.  It was a cell phone; he opened it, and pushed a button then spoke 'mirror' into it.  It dialed a number.  The whole act was done, as if it had been done a hundred times before.  

            "Hello.  This is Sagara.  The usual please."  

            Then he hung up the phone.  It was like ordering at a restaurant where the waiter knew you by mane and knew what you would order when you sat down and said, 'the usual please'.  By the time he had hung up the phone Kenshin was walking out of the bedroom, wearing the usual bright fuchsia turtle neck, jeans, and a navy blue jacket.  

            "Sano, so where do you want to go for breakfast?" Kenshin asked politely. 

            "The usual." Sano said as he opened the door for Kenshin.  Kenshin exited first with a smile, like that of a small child who was going to get candy.  Sano got the urge to bang his head against the wall, but he refrained.  

~~~~~~ GOOD FORTUNE RESTAURANT ~~~~~~~  

            It was still earl and the restaurant wasn't open.  Kenshin and Sanosuke got out of the car, each with a bagel in their hands, and walked around to the back door.  They went to their work lockers and put on their work clothes.  In Sano's locker there was a black apron, and in Ken's, there was a white one, along with a chef's hat.  

            Sano pulled the apron on and tied it.  He looked over to Kenshin, who was working on putting his hair back so that his hat would stay on his head.   Sano wanted to laugh every time that he laid eyes on his friend, but he didn't laugh of course.  Kenshin really did look ridiculous.  

            Sano being the bus boy didn't waste time pondering over the sheer queerness of his friend, rather he went off into the back room and retrieved the clean silverware.  When he returned, Kenshin had already started cooking.  

            He was such an eyesore.  He was a redhead, wearing a hot pink turtleneck, and faded bootleg jeans with a white apron, which fell past his knees and to top it all off, that stupid hat. Then of course there was that scar.  That wasn't ludicrous at least; it was just strange.  That was the only reason why people didn't laugh when they saw Ken.  That and the fact that it was pointless to laugh at him, he would just laugh along with you.  

            As Sano passed him by, all that he could see was a smile on the man's face.  It could brighten up a pitch-black room- that smile.  That was what Kenshin was; he was the personification of light and fluffy.  If he were to break a glass, he would laugh and brush it off.  If someone were to curse and scream at him, he'd smile and tell them what a lovely day it was.  By God he was gay, happy.  Simply happy.  He was a feather that never fell to the ground.  

            As Sano went back into the main part of the kitchen to start washing the dishes, he shook his head as he always did, at his friend.  He was glad however that he didn't have to constantly worry what would happen around this happy Kenshin.  He didn't have to keep his eye on him every single second, when he was like this.  It allowed him to breathe, and rest his mind, which was constantly straining, all the rest of the time. He knew that the smiling red head couldn't harm a fly, or cause any trouble whatsoever; the poor guy probably wouldn't even know how to pick a fight.  He probably wasn't even capable of getting angry.  

            Although, it was a shame that he had to enjoy cooking.  It sure as hell was embarrassing for Sano to be a bus boy.  

            _'He had to like to cook!  Why couldn't he have liked law?'_ Sano thought. Then Sano tried to picture Ken being a prosecutor, and he started chuckling to himself.  No, that didn't fit Kenshin. 

_            'A cook . . .' _Sano smiled yet again.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            They got off at their usual time.  It was just about 4:30.  Kenshin was smiling as Sanosuke shut his locker, and put on his jacket.  

            "Kenshin, why are you so happy?" Sano didn't know how, but Kenshin's smile actually grew bigger.  

            "Because it is a great thing to be alive.  I am happy to be here with you, and with everyone else, I am happy just to spend time in this world." Sano nodded his head.  He knew the answer. It was the same answer he always received. He rarely asked, but when he did, it was always the same answer.  

            "Kenshin lets go home."

            "Hai." He said with a beaming grin.  

There was a brief silence, when they finally got into the car, Kenshin broke out, "What would you like for dinner tonight Sano?"

            "Up to you tonight; I've got plans." Kenshin didn't stop smiling.  As if he was incapable of such a thing.

            Sano dropped Ken off at the apartment building, and sped off.  

            _'Kenshin would be fine for a few more hours yet.'  _

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

            Ken locked up as soon as he closed the door.  He then made himself dinner.  He served himself a bowl of chocolate ice cream after dinner, and went into his room to watch some anime on the television. After he watched some television, he took a shower. It was a fast shower, for him, only about ten minutes.  He didn't even sing like he normally would, he was so tired.  He got out, wrapped a towel around himself, and headed back to his room.  There, he rummaged through his drawers, and picked out his raccoon pajamas and slipped into them.  Then, with a yawn, he went to bed.  

            It was around 7:30, just before sunset, when he finally dozed off, his eyes becoming heavy.  He fell into a peaceful slumber, and as his eyes closed, something else awoke.  

            The front door to his apartment opened quietly, and a Sano walked in and sat on the couch.    

**End Chapter One**


	3. Chapter 2

Scars Chapter Two 

            Sano saw the change as it occurred.  The calm peaceful look of a dreamless slumber vanished, and the muscles of Kenshin's face contorted.  Then his eyes opened, they were not the beautiful shade of purple as they were, less than five minutes ago-they were amber.  Kenshin's whole body posture even changed.  As he got up, his movements were no longer spontaneous and fluffy, but uncannily purposeful and mechanical.  

He scowled as he looked at himself.  He walked to his bedroom door, and opened it, looking directly at Sanosuke.  

            "Konchu, do I look like an assassin in this?" Battousai looked down at his attire.

            Sano rolled his eyes at the man. "I don't control him, you know. I am merely the clean up man, and we just happen to be friends. I don't tell either of you what to do."

            The man scowled, and slammed the door.  He exited the room five minutes later, wearing all black.  There were no two people as contrast.  They were opposites, dark and light, hot and cold.  The man cloaked in black came out, and seemed to glide over to the couch.  He stopped in mid stride, seemingly thinking about something.  

            "You had that mirror cleaned up fast."  He coldly spat at Sanosuke.  

            "It is my job, Battousai." Sano spat back mockingly.  

            Battousai spun around, towards the back of the living room, where his sword was located.  He stopped in front of it, but didn't move to take hold of it.  

            "Konchu, why do you bother with me?"  Battousai asked in a monotone whisper, a voice that sent shivers down the spine.  

            Sanosuke moved from his lounged position into a hunched over slouch.  He reached inside his leather-jacked pocket, and pulled out a red bandana.  He held it in his hand, and looked at it.  Then he tied it around his forehead.  

            "Why do you live the way you do?" Sano asked when he had his bandana secure.  

            The man, standing in front of the sword, didn't move.  His head was bowed, his long red locks of hair hiding the gaping holes to his soul.  Then he seemed to come to a resolve with himself, for he loosened a little and looked up at the sword again.  He slowly reached for it.  He grasped a hold of it, and secured it to his side, with his belt.  

            When his eyes met with Sano's, they were the color of amber.  His posture had become tense again.  He just stared at Sano, as if testing his resolve.  Then his face tightened into a look of disapproval.  He then tied his long fire red hair into a high ponytail.  

            "Did you get a message, Konchu?" He asked in his normal monotone voice.   

            "No.  You will get a call."  

            The two men just stayed motionless in the room, Battousai standing by his sword holder, and Sanosuke sitting hunched over in the armchair.  The silence and stillness of the room made time seem endless, like the figures were statues, frozen as they were, forever.  Then the sound of the telephone cut the silence, and the Battousai's movements, though agonizingly slow, ended the stillness.  Sano's eyes followed his every move, and were locked to his eyes as he stared off into empty space, holding the receiver to his ear.  

            The room was silent, as Battousai listened to whoever was instructing him, his eyes moving in his sockets, unfocused as if in a daze.  

            He said, "Yes" into the air, and then the line went dead. Battousai didn't waste any time, the receiver fell into its place, and he headed straight for the door, Sanosuke in toe.  

            Just a little way down the street there was a parking garage for the apartments.  Battousai pulled out of his pocket a card, and ran it through the gate lock. The gate opened.  They went up the stairs, stopping at the fourth floor.  Battousai then pulled out a set of keys from another pocket, and pushed a button, and the sound of a car unlocking was heard.  

            The car was black with neon green lights on the wheels and underneath the car.  The windows were tinted black, and the interior was black leather.  Battousai first went to the trunk, and pulled out a bag that contained a black leather trench coat, and black leather gloves.  He threw another pair at Sano, who was standing next to the passengers' door, ready to get in.  

            Battousai got in, and they sped out of the garage, rubber burning into the cement.  

            "In a hurry tonight?"

            Battousai only let the car have more gas.  

            They drove for about fifty minutes, they were in the inner city, and he was starting to slow down. Battousai's eyes scanned the area carefully, taking it all in.  He finally stopped the car in a back alleyway and got out, followed by Sano. He locked the doors, and the horn sounded lightly, but after that, there was only black silence.  Sano had to squint his eyes to follow Battousai.  

            As they walked down the alley, you could hear the faint sound of music coming from somewhere close.  Off in the distance, there was a window that had a light on.  

            Upon closer inspection, the music and lights were coming from the same place.  The room, with the light coming out the window, was on the first floor.  As both Battousai and Sanosuke approached the window, the music became louder, and the voices from within the room started to become more apparent than the music, that seemed to cover them.   There were three distinct voices, all men.  Two were yelling and the other was trying to get the other two to shut up.  

            Just as Battousai had reached the window, and was about to take a look inside, the window shattered, as something was thrown at it.  The object fell into the alley, and in the darkness, was concealed. The yelling within, along with the music, filled the alleyway with sound.  Also the smell of smoke filled the air, as it leaked through the now ruptured window.  

            It wasn't cigarette smoke, Sanosuke knew the smell of cigarettes and this was not the right smell.  Battousai motioned at Sanosuke and pointed to a door that was less than two feet away, adjacent to the window.  Sanosuke had done this enough times to know what he meant, although the first time the assassin had pulled this stunt, he had no idea what the guy was trying to get at by pointing at a door.  I mean what did he want, for him to go in?  Was he insane?  But Sanosuke knew.  So he nodded, and put his hand on the doorknob.  He bowed his head, and took a deep breath, something he did every time, just to calm his nerves, then he barged into the room.  

            The first reaction from within, was shock.  This caused them to look at the door, and the intruder.  Now there was normally a fast reaction when it came to people like this, they were very trigger happy, so within a few seconds, after their cracked minds had processed that the intruder was not one of their own, they pulled out their guns.  Now as this was taking place, Sano just stood there, in the doorway, and even though they had guns cocked and ready to fire upon him, his face was relaxed, and his lips were pulled back into a smile.  

            Then as they all were about to pull the trigger-blood.  Battousai used the distraction to enter the room from the back window, and came up behind them.  He took the one closest to him out first, by cutting him in half, at the abdomen, then with lighting speed, he took out the two standing around the table towards the middle right of the room by decapitating both of them, and lastly by this time the last man in the room, had turned to face him, and as he moved his arm to point the gun at Battousai, he found a sword in his throat.  So there were four, when they had only heard three.  If there had been twenty, they still would have had no chance.  

            Sanosuke felt something wet on his chest.  He looked down at himself.  

            "AWW MAN! Did you have to splatter the blood all over the room?  I mean; this shirt was new!"  He wined to Battousai.  

            Battousai gave him a stone cold glare full of annoyance.  He then looked at his clothes, unadulterated by the blood.  For one second he allowed his face to distort into an evil smile.  Then just as it had appeared, the smile vanished, and his face was once again nothing but stone. 

            "Konchu, bugs are foul creatures. Always in unclean places, covering themselves with filth." He said coldly. 

            Sano pulled out his cell phone and turned it on and dialed another number, as they both walked out of the room, and back to Battousai's car.  Battousai removed his coat, folded it neatly, and laid it in the oversized bag. He then removed his gloves, one finger at a time. They were like a second skin, a perfect fit.  

            "Why do you wear gloves?"  

            Silence was his reply.  But Sano was in one of those moods, more curious than normal, and just as stubborn as the assassin.  

            "I mean you never get dirty, you seem to splatter the blood on every place in the room, except on yourself.  Why even bother with the gloves."

            Normally silence would follow no matter how much he pushed a subject, silence or a glare that looked like it could kill, but this time it was different.

            "Filth."

            One word, a word that could be taken as meaning many things.  Filth of what?  Of whom?  But Sano knew that it was all he would say, even if it hadn't answered or addressed his question.  It was one more word uttered, than normal, which was a plus anytime.

End Chapter Two  

(A/N)  

Konchu - insect

I knew that I wanted to give Sano a name that Battousai would call him, it had originally been Gnat, but I liked Konchu better in the end.  I had even considered Bouyo, which means fly, but that is the name of Kagome's cat, and I couldn't think of a fly when I read it, only the fat cat, so Konchu it was.


End file.
